Schoolin

Somehow school started this past week. Jane is in 1st grade this year and Emily is in 4th. 

They pick out their own clothes now, so they were both super excited to wear outfits of their choice. Jane spent the entire evening before cracking up about her shirt which reads, "My unicorn ate my homework". Clearly clothing manufacturers are able to tap in to a 6-year old sense of humor. Bravo, Children's Place. I would have never found such a statement even mildly amusing. Personally, I wanted my kids to purchase a shirt featuring the "Dark Side of the Moon" album cover. Not cool, mom, not cool. 

Here they are, marching to school, Emily clutching her permission slip and check that will buy her a year's worth of playing violin in the orchestra. She wants to grow up to be like Lindsey Stirling. I'm not sure which girl trend scares me worse: the violin frenzy created by Lindsey Stirling or the bow and arrow obsession created by Katniss Everdeen. At least if you emulate Katniss you can put a little food on the table. In the meantime, we have a basement bedroom that will double as a music room. I think that will provide safe distance. And if this blog is being read by adult Emily as she tours as a professional musician: I knew you could do it, sweetie! When no one else believed in you, I did!

Emily scooted right off to her classroom without a backwards glance, but Jane still wanted us to walk her in and say goodbye. Her teacher is brand new this year and very enthusiastic, but still seems to not be able to be fooled by Jane's shenanigans. I think it will be a good match. 

All week they have been making new friends, reconnecting with old ones and working hard in school. It should be a great year. 

Birthday, farm and Chemo casserole

This past week was Chris' birthday. I feel like he deserves a trip to some exotic location and a million dollars after all he's been through with me this summer but he had to settle for a new pair of hiking boots, 

Some homemade cinnamon rolls (my first post surgery baking foray) and a workout video - to go with the cinnamon rolls, of course. 

Ami and Jacob had just returned from the pacific northeast and returned with a bigfoot shirt for Chris. Everyone who knows Chris knows that he has a strange bigfoot obsession, so he was very pleased. 

The kids' summer camp ended last week and school doesn't start until Tuesday. Chris and I were supposed to take turns taking off work in order to fill the gap. But considering the state of my work leave after this summer, Chris agreed to take the whole week. He has been taking them on adventures which have included swimming, shopping, going to the library and going to a farm. They have enjoyed it thoroughly. 

They also went to go see the progress on the new temple. It is beautiful. I can't even express how grateful I am to Chris for everything he does. He has picked up the slack so seamlessly that I think the kids have hardly noticed the difference. 

Our biggest and suckiest adventure this week was the beginning of chemo. This is adriamycin. It is nicknamed "The Red Devil". I tend to agree with that assessment, especially since it feels like there have been demons in my stomach for the last three days. 

Two hours after treatment, I was white as a ghost and sicker than a a 12 year old Drew Barrymore at a frat party. That was in poor taste. I'm allowed. I'm not a well woman.  

Everyone means well and everyone has their own advice on how to get through chemo. I think the only way to get through is by making your own path and trying to keep things as normal as possible. I do what I can, when I can. When I can't cope I take Ativan (which has amazing anti-nausea properties) and I go to sleep. I eat bland food and stay away from anything spicy, bitter or sour... or anything that smells like anything resembling food. That's right out.

During chemo, I enjoy the blanket my grandma made for me and the excellent wifi at the cancer center... and my rock. Chris is always there, getting me whatever food I want for my last meal and telling me that I'm normal for wanting to cry. I really don't know what I would do without him.

Two months of the Red Devil and his little sister, Cytoxan and then I will be onto three months of a different (hopefully less stomach churning) drug. After that, life. That's the whole reason I'm going through all this crap. So I can get on with life.

As they walked and walked and walked and waaaaalked

I am mostly on the mend and I thought I would update.

I went back to work about a week and a half ago. I wasn't fully healed, but I was starting to feel useless at home and I thought it would be good for my spirits to go back to work. My boss was less than pleased that I wasn't at full capacity, so in the end it didn't help my spirits as much as I hoped, but at least it kept me from using vacation leave. And it did feel good to be somewhat normal.

I had another small surgery this past week. Some of the skin around my incisions had died and it had to be cut away and the incisions restitched. This was very depressing to me because it set my healing back by two weeks. It also set my ability to shower back by two weeks. Going into this whole process, I somehow had the impression that I would be able to shower a week after surgery. A month later, here I am, an expert at shaving my armpits at the bathroom sink. Everybody needs a skill. This is mine. 

My little surgery also set chemo back. I will start that on August 20th. I am having a hard time wrapping my mind around that. I would rather do just about anything than chemo right now. Anything but die. So I guess chemo it is. 

Yesterday was Race for the Cure. It was a hard day for me because even though I can't lift a full gallon of milk or open a heavy door or scoop ice cream, my legs are totally unaffected. I want to run. I know it would hurt like crazy if I did run and maybe rip out some of my fresh stitches in the bargain. So it was great that I had a big group of friends and family who came to the race with me and reminded me that it was okay to walk. 

Some of them even walked with me, so I didn't feel like crap at the back of the pack. This group contains some very able runners and gifted athletes. I think both of Shelly's daughters would have actually lapped me if we were all running a 5k. But they walked with me. 

Chris walked with me too. He said he would have placed in the top 3 of his age group if he ran in the same time as last year, but he walked with me. He has been amazing and supportive through this whole thing. He's the only one that sees the whole story and he's okay with it. I love him more than I can ever express.

One of my coworkers who has been through breast cancer warned me that going to RFTC is difficult because there are all these people telling you what you can do to prevent cancer, when you know there was nothing you could have done. I dismissed her warning. But by the end of the race, I was livid, having spent most of the race behind breastfeeding proponents (none of whom were survivors) sporting pink tutus and shirts that grossly exaggerated the preventative effects of breastfeeding upon cancer... one more thing to make women feel guilty for not breastfeeding. The reason why I was upset is because my oncologist says that the mastitis I suffered while breastfeeding far and away cancelled the tiny benefit and actually put me more at risk for breast cancer. I am happy that I breastfed my kids, but because it was best for them, not because it was best for me. Because clearly it wasn't.

So I walked away from the race frustrated. Frustrated that I couldn't run. Frustrated that I had done everything right and still got cancer. Frustrated that after decades of these fundraising efforts that the only way to get rid of cancer is the same way they got rid of it 50 years ago: cut and poison. I've been cut and I'm preparing to be poisoned. I really hope that the next 20 years bring some serious changes because I don't want my kids to go through the same thing.

I also walked away grateful for the support and hopeful that next year I will run and leave the breastfeeding ladies in the dust.

In other news, school starts in 2 weeks. This summer life has gone on. Jane has finally learned to swim 10 feet unassisted. Emily has taken up running. She says she wants to do track next spring. she has her daddy's legs so I think she will be quite successful. She also says she wants to learn how to play violin. Heaven help us. This could be a long school year.